All About Planning

So, Australia is a long way away. And it's big--about the size of the continental United States. This is useful to keep in mind when I'm planning. It's as though I'm working on a vacation that sees all the best of the US, from San Francisco to the Grand Canyon to New Orleans to Disneyworld to New York to the tip of Acadia to Chicago to Yellowstone. It's an overwhelming amount of information, and sorting it is a daunting task.

The lucky bit is that because I'm renting a campervan (view its charming tutorials--complete with Aussie automotive slang!--here), the majority of my lodging is taken care of. I'm actually not allowed to import a single scrap of food into the country, so no planning there, either. I can't even use my remaining 30 or so dehydrated meals, which are STILL IN MY FREEZER. Basically, my only planning involves making a long list of must-sees, and hanging a loose schedule on them.

So far, they consist of:

• Shark Bay: North of Perth, in the center of the coast of Western Australia, Shark Bay is a world heritage preserve that contains dugong (manatee) habitat, sharks, the world's only remaining stromatolites (the oldest and most primitive life forms known), and a pod of dolphins that have taken to chilling with human tourists. 
• The Great Australian Bight: Running along the south coast, it's like the Cliffs of Dover, if the Cliffs of Dover went for seven hundred miles. This coast abuts the Nullarbor Plain, an astonishingly flat, treeless expanse of the outback, so the contrast between it and the wave-swept Southern Ocean is incredible. The Bight also includes the Twelve Apostles, an oft-photographed series of dramatic sea stacks. 
• Kangaroo Island: Off the coast near Adelaide, it's a rural wildlife oasis that is remarkably unspoiled by introduced species (such as invasive plants or placental mammals, like rabbits and cats).
• Melbourne: Reports say it's the Portland or San Francisco of Australia; good cafes, hip culture, vital markets, trendy bars. Keep in mind that, like most Australian cities, its population tops out at about the same as Boston's, which I find to be a comfortable human scale.
• The Sights of Sydney: The opera house, the bridge (which you can climb on top of--at night!--with a guided tour), the royal botanical gardens, the beach, etc.
• The Great Barrier Reef: As mentioned in a previous post, the reef (and its depressing prognosis) is a big reason for taking this trip now. There are several islands where you can actually camp within the reef itself, with snorkeling opportunities right outside your tent flap.
  The GBR presents a challenge to planning. I thought about getting a dive certification before I went, but honestly, the idea of SCUBA diving doesn't appeal to me all that much, and the idea of spending nearly $1,000 bucks and many hours getting a certification I may never use again appeals to me even less. Of course, I want to see as much as I can, and the whole "oxygen" thing limits me, but in the end, I decided to go the free-swimming route.
  The other planning challenge is that campsites understandably fill up quickly. I should probably make a reservation as soon as I can. On the other hand, I really have no idea how my schedule will go once I'm in-country, and I hate to give myself a firm deadline for a destination that's so far into the itinerary. Since this is a pretty big must-see, though, I bet I'll bite the bullet and book a site ahead of time. Or maybe book several at different times, and cancel the ones I don't use. 
• The Katherine Gorge: A stop in one of my few true excursions away from the coast and into the outback. It's supposed to be a spectacular canyon, and IT'S MY NAME, DAMNIT. 
• Kakadu National Park: Right next to the Kate Gorge, it's a distillation of the swampy, wild north coast.

There are other must-sees that aren't plugged into the schedule yet, mostly because there are several opportunities, and I'll decide which to take once I'm there:

• Take a Surfing Lesson
• Visit a Vineyard/Tasting
• Have a Cold, Shitty Beer in a Roadhouse
• Eat a Kangaroo
• Eat an Emu 
• Snuggle a Koala
• See Some Parrots/Cockatoos
• Visit a Croc Farm
• Have Baby, Feed to Dingo (check accelerated gestation)
• Set Foot in the Indian and Southern Oceans

Right now, I have an outline that hits all of these in one way or another, all within the 8 weeks between my flight in and flight out. It's a packed schedule, and as with my trip out west, I'm open to the idea of throwing it away if the fancy strikes. The result is that despite all I want to see, I feel like things are seriously up in the air, especially considering I'm leaving in a bit more than three months!

Tickets. No, really.

Okay, phew! The skeevy discount-airfare web site did, in fact, refund 100% of my money. Today, I went to a REAL AIRLINE'S website and did a bang-up job of getting a ticket to Perth, Western Australia. This time, the price was actually below the best price I'd hoped for. So it worked out great in the end.

The dates weren't as ideal, plus I fly through Dubai, and Dubai wigs me out in a how-did-we-not-see-that-this-is-the-End-Times kind of way.

No one lives here. Nothing but the invisible desert wind howling through the empty glass towers.

I still found flights with manageable layovers, though. I'm flying out on February 25, and landing in Logan again on April 22, losing a day on the way out and gaining a day on the way back.

So: February 25, 2014. Heading to Oz.

Okay, whuuut...

So scratch that.

After booking the tickets through kayak.com, I woke up in the middle of the night last night to a notification on my phone. Apparently, Kayak booked the tickets through yet another discount-airfare site, airfare.com. Airfare.com called me and left a voicemail (at midnight!), saying the cost of my ticket had gone up "tremendously" at the "last minute," and recommending that I call or go online and cancel the tickets, unless I wanted to "pay... [ominous pause] more." They didn't even leave a phone number.

This sounds very un-legit. I poked around online and found a string of freaked-out, one-star reviews of airfare.com, rife with words like "scam," "avoid at all costs," and "kayak.com should have dropped these people long ago."

This morning, I called airfare.com's customer service. It turned out that the "tremendous" price raise was about $100.00, which on a flight to Australia is actually pretty insignificant. But I was skeeved, and I had a recording of them saying they would cancel my reservation with no penalty, so I thought it best if I just got out. I cancelled the flight, and the guy on the phone said he would honor the no-fee promise. I'll have to wait and see what the credit-card statement looks like when it comes back in the next few days. I hope to God this isn't some drawn-out battle with incompetent/malicious customer service.

Anyway. All in all, it shouldn't be a huge loss. It's on my credit card, so I can dispute the charges through my own bank as well, and the price of airfare is still the same, if not a little lower, than it was yesterday when I booked. I kind of want to wait for the refund to show up before purchasing other tickets, but either way, I'll look very closely at who's doing the booking next time.

Tickets!

My Australia plans have lagged, and it's no mystery: new(ish) job, new apartment, new town. It's tough to think about getting on a plane for two days and exploring an unfamiliar continent when you still can't find your way to from your own bedroom your bathroom with the lights off.

But I knew that plus-or-minus six months out was a good time to get the best price on plane tickets. Today, after several days of careful comparison shopping, the price on trans-Pacific flights dropped to my reasonable benchmark, and I leapt.

I'll be leaving the U.S. of A on February 26 and returning (or at least arriving) on April 24. I'm proud that I found a series of flights from Boston to Perth that connects one right after the other, getting me to Oz in record time (I'll see how my back feels about nearly 30 hours of nothing but sitting down after I get there.) Coming back, I end up with about a day's layover in LA, but it's long enough to actually give me time to get a hotel and sleep.

Now, to lay the rest of the major pieces in place: I have to reserve the camper van, and make sure I have a hotel to land in in Perth so I can skip a few days while my internal clock realigns. I might even get a vacation rental/apartment style spot so I can do serious gearing up and grocery shopping from a home base with a fridge.

This trip will creep up on me faster than the last one, I predict. Gotta make sure I stay focused!

Outlining Oz

Though it's just about a year off, I'm squaring away the plans for my Australian journey. This will help me prep and pounce on any airline/camper rental deals I spot in the meantime. Here's a general overview:

I fly into Perth, Western Australia, on the far west coast of the country.
From there, I'll drive north to Shark Bay, where I can see stromatolites and swim with dolphins.
Unavoidably, I'll have to head back south to Perth in order to trace the coast eastward to Adelaide, and then on to Melbourne.
I'll spend several days in Melbourne before swinging up the coast to Sydney.
In Sydney, I'll walk along the harbor bridge and look at the opera house and probably eat ice cream before heading north again, passing through Brisbane on my way to the Great Barrier Reef.
You can actually camp on islands in the reef, which yes. Coming back to the mainland, I'll make my first major trek inland, crossing Queensland into the Northern Territory.
Once I'm in the Northern Territory, near Darwin, I'd love to make some detours back into Western Australia to see a crocodile sanctuary and a couple of national parks.
I'll return the rented camper in Darwin, where it turns out it's cheaper to get a domestic flight to Perth and complete the round trip from there to Boston, rather than fly home out of Darwin.

Put it all together, about 12,000 kilometers, and it looks something like this:


View Larger Map
My main accommodations will be camping, either in my tent or in the "van," which will probably be more like a Land Rover with sleeping acomodations, like this:

Roughly. HA! Because it's rough.

I'll be sticking mostly to parks, preserves, and wilderness areas, with the exception of longer stays in Perth, Melbourne, and Sydney. I hope to make friends with emus, wallabies, bandicoots, koalas, cassowaries, dugongs, kangaroos, and other absurdly named fauna. I'd like to snorkel in the coral and learn to surf. Also, vineyards, cheese places, Asian food, and identifying southern constellations. I hope to run into weird primitive plants in the tropical rain forests and run over some lizards in the desert.

As it is, the plan is a tight squeeze at 8 weeks, which is the most I can allow myself. I unfortunately can't fit in Tasmania or Uluru/Ayer's Rock, not to mention New Zealand, due to time. 

I'm internally debating whether I should adopt a philosophy of driving short distances, making short stays, and visiting a lot of places; or driving long distances, taking longer stays, and visiting fewer places. As it is, I have an enormous list. I suppose (with a few exceptions where I have to reserve camping spots or hotels ahead of time) I can decide once I'm there.

Prepare your butt, Southern Hemisphere!

My western-US trip was amazing, and while another New England winter lingers interminably into spring, I'm thinking about where to go next. The answer (for a depressing reason I'll mention later) is: Australia and New Zealand!

This trip will be on the order of 6-8 weeks, rather than 6 months, so it's a different scale of planning, but the distances involved more than make up for it. What I'm thinking now is to rent a camper or sleeper van and drive around the circumference of the continent, either all the way or in a large backward C, skipping the vast and unpopulated west coast from Perth to Darwin. I'll make stops in major cities and at several national parks for a few days at a time. It will probably be around this time next year--March--making it late summer/early fall in the Southern Hemisphere.

Luckily, I'm not the first person to have this idea, and there's a whole camper-rental industry that caters to weirdos who want to drive long distances in and around Australia (including one that rents graffiti-ed molester vans). There will be altogether less camping and backpacking involved in this trip, but I do plan on sleeping in the van, camping, and doing lots of hiking, swimming, and wandering around. I'd like to drive into the outback enough to say I saw it, but I don't think I want to spend much time there. Uluru (Ayer's Rock) is probably too out-of-the-way.

And New Zealand! So far, I haven't thought much about it, but I know I'd like to see it. Depending on the amount of time I want to be gone, I may not get to spend much there, which could be too bad. But at this point, things are still very up in the air. I'm only starting to make dents in the Internet research. Next will be the library. Check for infrequent updates.

Oh, and the depressing reason? Skip if you don't want to be depressed. Scientists estimate that the Great Barrier Reef will die off before the end of this century, and possibly within 50 years. So, yeah. While it lasts.

Last Stop: The Bay Area

Though I've visited my last national park, my travels aren't quite over. I've spent the week alternately camping, couch-surfing, hotel-ing, and hanging out in the greater Bay Area, and it's been a great time. First, I spent a weekend in Tahoe with my friends Kim and Steve, who I met in the Grand Canyon. Though there wasn't snow for skiing/boarding, I still saw the amazing scenery of Lake Tahoe and hung out in their beautiful house with their awesome dog, Charlie. (He's a St. Bernard. He likes to do the lean-on-you-when-you-pet-him thing. Which means it's like having an large man lean on you.)

In SF, I landed in the Marin Headlands, just across the Golden Gate Bridge, where there was a lovely camping spot about a 30 minute drive from the middle of the city. Plus, this was my view:

Toldja I'd find my camera charger.

The first night I was there, most of my Bay Area friends had plans, so I had a nice dinner on the hilltop overlooking the bridge and the city. When I got back to my campsite, a raccoon had torn a hole in the door of my tent. He was trundling away, having rifled through my day pack (which apparently still smelled like food I spilled in there like two weeks ago.)

You guys, raccoons are assholes.

I suppose it isn't that big a deal--these are my last few days camping, and California is mosquito-free this time of year. Luckily, the rain fly was untouched. I'll just have to get the door repaired when I'm home.

I spent that weekend in and around the city, meeting up with my friends Andrew and Cara; Megan Dean, a friend of ours from high school who we hadn't seen in years; and some college friends. I ate a lot of pastry. I drank microbrews. I got a little bit of culture shock, having not been in a crowded room in about six months.

Then, I spent a day hanging out in Berkeley with my awesome friend Liz and her fiancee, Alexis. It was a warm and refreshing bit of domesticity; they generously let me stay at their apartment, where we Skyped with various babies, wrapped Christmas presents, ate dinner in front of their enormous and beautiful tree, and watched a fluffy romantic comedy. The next night was also a little slice of home when Megan generously let me crash on her futon. I met her fiancee Rashid and his very entertaining children, Adan and Yasmine, and we ate warm and spicy soup and creme brulee cheesecake. Now that I know there is such a thing as creme brulee cheesecake, I can never un-know it.

For the past two days, I took one last swing away from city life. I drove north along Highway 1, finding a campground directly on the beach in Sonoma County. The first day, I just bummed around the shore. The second, I went on a little mini-tour of Sonoma County wine country. While I generally find California overdeveloped and hard to stomach, I have a feeling these beach pictures will make future-me (and maybe present-you) very jealous. Just try to remember that it was chilly and damp.

I don't know what the trees were, but they had tiny white flowers and purple berries.

I spent about half an hour and 60 shots trying to capture the clear green of the water.

One of these birds is actually the moon.

Tiny pebbles, or huge sand?

Wild aloe growing on the cliff trail

Right now I'm at a seaside hotel in Santa Cruz, updating to the very appropriate sounds of the surf coming into the bay. Tomorrow I'll visit the Monterey Bay Aquarium before heading back into the city for one last meetup with friends. Then, it is a very long drive home.

And I Didn't Even Have to Cut My Own Arm Off: The Parks of Southern Utah

After Thanksgiving, I had a decision to make. My general plan is still to meet with friends in San Francisco around the middle of December before driving across the country in time for Christmas. But how would I spend the time in between? I'd thought of dawdling my way up the California coast, camping near the beach and bumming around. But there was also time to squeeze in a section of the trip I'd previously skipped: the Colorado Plateau, specifically southern Utah. The tradeoff would be long miles and cold temperatures. But hell, I thought, I've already driven up the California coast. So straight north I went, to red rock country.

I only had about two weeks to cover the territory I'd originally thought might take me a month. I'm trying not to have regrets over the way this trip fell into place, but if I'd had more time, I'd have spent it here. The canyon country of southern Utah is as extraordinary as all the tour brochures make it seem. The other regret I'm trying not to have is not being able to find my camera charger. (It's in the car. Somewhere. I swear.) About halfway through Canyonlands, the battery died, leaving me with my phone's rather clumsy and relatively low-res camera. Fine for blogging, but it can't take photos you'd want to frame.

It was a whirlwind tour, with just one night each in Arches and Capitol Reef, and skipping Zion entirely. But it was well worth it.

The way up from Tucson passed through Monument Valley. You know, this one:

 Copyright Ron Niebrugge, wildnatureimages.com

Unfortunately, I made my closest pass to the classic view long after dark. I camped at a spot called Gooseneck State Park, just over the Utah border. I knew I was in dramatic country, but I couldn't see anything but stars. When I woke up, I stumbled around my tent and saw this:

The San Juan River making a dramatic meander

I took a scenic drive along a dirt road around the area.

Monument Valley in the far distance.

A "mini Monument Valley" along the scenic drive.

Nonno gets a bit of dust on the back windshield.

Then it was north to Arches.

Arches National Park

You know what they got in Arches National Park?

OMG ARCHES!!

Yes. They also have cool rock formations. Upon arrival, I did a series of short walks along the main scenic drive.

I also toured the biggest concentration of arches.

Double Arch

 That night, I was one of the few people at the lovely campground. It was chilly, but not really cold.

These snowy mountains made a lovely backdrop to much of the park, though they seldom came out in photos.

Sunset from camp

The next day, I walked the longest maintained trail in Arches, a mere 7 miles. Arches is very small.

The trail traversed a series of rock fins, eroded so they resembled cruise ships in harbor.

They were about the size of cruise ships, too.

That was it for Arches! On to...

Canyonlands National Park

Canyonlands is divided into three sections, ranging from car-friendly (Islands in the Sky) to hiker-friendly (Needles) to nobody-friendly (the Maze, which requires high-clearance 4WD, "advanced driving skills," and days' worth of water. This is where that guy cut his arm off). I opted for the Needles district. I took three long hikes, the first being the most spectacular. It was halfway through this hike that my camera's battery died. Very sad, because the rock formations on this hike were unbelievable.

The formation in the pic above is on the right of the wall here.

The trail itself was also exciting, passing over slickrock scrambles, up ladders, and through tunnels.

I also took pictures of cool plants.

This picture is NOT upside-down. A tiny trickle emerging from overhanging rocks sustained these perfect inverted bonsais.

The lumpy soil is cryptobiotic, formed by colonies of microorganisms.

I took a similar hike the next day, this one ending at a relatively lush spot by a river, where there were Native American pictographs on the rock walls.

Streaks of "desert varnish," oxidized layers left by evaporating water.

Another narrow spot, with ladder

The third hike, on my last day in Canyonlands, was probably the least interesting. It traversed more rock formations to a spot that overlooked the confluence of the Green and Colorado Rivers, the Mississippi and Missouri of the West. It didn't help that the day had gone cloudy and blustery.

Hard to tell from the photo, but that's a long way down. This entire area is part of the same rock/river system that formed the Grand Canyon.

On my way out of Canyonlands, I encountered the snow that would stay for the rest of my trip through Utah.

Capitol Reef National Park

I almost skipped Capitol Reef. It's small, not very well known, and guaranteed to be cold. But it was a convenient distance between Canyonlands and Bryce/Zion, so I stopped.

Capitol Reef is a prominent rock formation that dominates its area of southern Utah. Rock formations aren't exactly rare around here, and Capitol Reef's main claim is that the Fremont River runs through it, creating a hidden valley that's a tiny paradise of trees. Pioneers planted thriving orchards here, and though isolation doomed the towns, the fruit trees still survive. You can even pick fruit there, if you arrive in season. It was like a little Midwestern 19th-century village nestled in the red rock canyons, and a nice break from all the juniper-and-rock scrub desert. I spent one night here, and took one hike the next day.

I chose a campsite next to the horses, so I got to pet the horses.

Circular holes in the rock were common in all the parks. I still don't know what causes them.

All the trails and back roads are made of powder-fine red dust, which turns to ultra-sticky clay when wet. Dirt roads become impassable.

Red mud with snow.

Capitol Reef was lovely, but if I wanted to see Bryce Canyon, I had to head on.

Bryce Canyon

In some ways, Bryce Canyon is the spark that inspired this whole trip. Any time I saw a picture of Bryce Canyon, I sighed and thought, "I have to go there." Pressed for time and constricted by weather, I got one good day in Bryce. Luckily, the park is tiny, protecting just the one unique rock formation, so I saw quite a bit. Not that I wouldn't go back, if given the chance--especially when it's maybe a teensy bit warmer.

BRRRRR!!!

It was way too cold and snowy for camping, so I explored the park from the comfort of a motel-room base camp.

BRRRRR!!!

Hey, that looks like Ariel's Castle! Erm...

I wish my regular camera was working.

The End

So yeah. That was my last national park of the trip. I've still got more traveling to do; I have to traverse all of Nevada on my way to Tahoe, where I'll enjoy time with some Grand Canyon friends. Then it's off to the Bay Area, more friends and more fun. And, of course, I have to drive all the way back from Pacific to Atlantic, which will certainly be an endeavor. I may or may not add to the blog before I get home; I'm sure I'll fill in bits here and there afterward. But Bryce Canyon stands as the end of the wilderness portion of the journey.

I'll see many of you soon!